This choice: Pick one of the competitors, so she can win • Go Back...Chapter #34Closer to Chelsea by: Seuzz   What if the girl you pick just isn't any good, Chelsea had suggested. But you think you see a way of handling that.
"You're pretty good at the cheerleading stuff," you tell her, and as Yumi Saito it kills you more than a little to compliment Chelsea. And it's an especially odd thing to say given that Chelsea is looking like Gary Chen as you say it.
But it looks and sounds even weirder when Chen's face scrunches up into a very Chelsea-like smile. "Why, thank you, Yumi," he says as he beams at you. "I know how hard it is for you to admit something like that!"
You roll your eyes, then grab his hand as he lays it on your thigh. "So what if you did the tryout for me?" you say. "I pick the girl, but instead of me doing the tryout, you wear the mask so that she's guaranteed to get on?"
Chen's brow furrows. "Okay, I could see how that could work. But what if it turns out she's not any good? I mean, sure, I could maybe get someone onto the squad with a workout piece. But what about afterward?"
The furrow on his brow deepens. "Do you think we could, like, merge their minds?" he asks. "Like, merge her mind with, uh, mine, so that she could ..." He trails off, and the lines on his brow take on a thoughtful cast.
"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "Maybe I should just wait until I see who makes it onto the squad."
But your partner doesn't answer, and completes the meal without saying much more than a passing grunt.
* * * * *
Life continues. The school announces that there are two vacancies on the cheerleader squad and that open tryouts to fill them will be held on the Wednesday of the following week. There is much smirking and groaning among your friends, and suggestions that they should be held the following Friday—Halloween—instead. "Chelsea can dress up as a witch," Lin suggests, "so everyone can know what they're getting into."
You have no idea who is signing up for the tryouts, because Chelsea—both the golem that is keeping Chelsea's place warm, and the real girl, who is continuing to live under Gary Chen's mask—will tell you. "Gimme a blow job," he mutters on Saturday when you ask who's been signing up. Patterson has the fuck room, so you're back inside one of the portables, naked and nestled together in a dirty sleeping bag. "Suck me off real good, and I'll think about telling you."
So life proceeds in other ways. As the next week starts, your relationship with "Gary Chen" is open, official, and unashamed. He stops by your locker during most breaks between periods, to kiss you deeply and lustily while groping your ass. You go to and leave math and orchestra together. Your friends are clearly unsure how to react. Lin will only speak to you when you speak to her first, but she is at least cordial. Jessica doesn't speak much to you either, but Eva at least pretends a sympathetic understanding. Cindy doesn't address the situation, but she boxes Seth's ear on Sunday when he openly asks you how come you're seeing "that fucking psycho."
Jenny is almost as outspoken as Seth. You eat lunch with her and her friends on Monday—you keep an eye out for your own golem, but he's off being stupid with Caleb and Keith apparently—and Jenny gives you a very direct stare as you sit down with them. "So I guess you really are serious about Gary Chen," she says.
"I guess I am," you reply, and stiffen all over. You notice that Carson and James don't look at you; Paul, to your relief, has absented himself.
"What's the appeal?" Jenny asks.
You've no idea how to answer that question honestly. "He likes me," you improvise lamely. Then, to your own astonishment, you add: "Fiercely."
"What do you mean 'fiercely'?" Jenny asks.
"I mean—" But you've surprised yourself, and you grapple with it silently for what seems like a very long time before you can stammer out something like an explanation.
"I mean, he goes wild around me. For me." Your tongue ties up in a knot as you think of frenzied way that Chen pulls his clothes off when you're alone, of the hard bites and the groping fingers, of the gasps as he presses his rigid, straining cock at you and into you, of the frantic pumping and explosive release; and of the long, slow, decompression as he kisses and fondles you all over; the little endearments and the gruff apologies for being "kind of rough"; and the final limp, boneless relaxation with a cigarette as he stares at the ceiling while muttering obscenely about what he's going to do to you next time. "It's flattering," you lamely conclude.
"A lot of guys could go crazy for you, Yumi," Jenny says. "A lot of guys who aren't—"
"You know, he hasn't had an easy life." You raise your voice over hers. "He doesn't get a lot of love, not at home and sure as hell not at school. He's hungry for it."
Carson mutters something, but his words are lost under Jenny's. "That's not a healthy basis for a relationship," she tells you. Her eyes are deep wells of concern. "If you ever decide to break up, you should worry about how he's going to take it."
"I think it's a little early to think about breaking up."
"Just be careful," she tells you. "After what he did to Martin—"
"You know, you guys should be careful of him," you say, looking past Jenny at Carson and James, who are talking quietly with each other. "Don't think that 'cos Seth and Steve and those guys let you get away with giving them shit that Gary will too."
They just look at you.
Jenny's face shows her disappointment. "Jesus, Yumi. Now he's got you threatening people."
* * * * *
You do hear rumors and reports about girls who have applied for the squad. (You also hear from Kim, who tells you and your friends that she is moving on Chelsea's request to add a JV squad, though she says it will probably be after Christmas break before it can get set up.) On Tuesday, after school, as you're eating at the Panda Garden again, Chelsea finally shares with you the names of people who have signed up for the tryouts. "Who do you like on it?" she asks you. "You know, for your second?"
You look it over. A couple of names you've already been thinking about—Olivia Byrne; Mikaela Bowers—pop out at you. But it's not a long list, a fact you point out to Chelsea. "There were, like, sixty girls who tried out at the start of the year."
"We're halfway through the semester," she replies. "A lot of them are locked into a schedule. But before you get too deep into it," she says as you continue study the list, "I have an idea. Just hear me out, okay?"
She squeezes up very close to you; Chen's distinctive musk of sweat, tobacco smoke, and Chinese machismo fills your nostrils.
"You said something last week," she says, "about maybe I could do the tryout for you, to make sure your second face got onto the squad."
"Yeah, but you pointed out that wouldn't work."
"Sure, but it got me thinking." She puts her face—Chen's face—very close to yours. "What about if, instead of you taking one of these girls, as a second face—" She points to the list, and her words come in little, breathy squirts. "What if I took one of them?"
A chill settles over you. "You mean you take another face? But I'm the one who's supposed to— And the point of this is that I get another face on the squad."
"You would, babe, you would," she coos. "'Cos I'd give you a face that's already on the squad. Give up one of mine that's already there."
"Who's that?" She's not making any sense.
"My own face," she says in a very small voice. "You could be—" She swallows. "Chelsea Cooper. And I could be—" With a fumbling finger she points to the list.
It takes you a moment to register what she's proposing.
"I'm not getting a lot of use out of my own face, Will," she says. "I could let you have it as your second. Off and on, maybe, at least. And then I could be—" Again she points at the list.
Still you can't find your voice.
"You've been really sweet to me, Will," she continues, and you can see the sweat breaking out on her forehead. (Say something, you moron! you shout at yourself.) "You've helped me out with all this magic stuff. And getting the squad straightened out. And you've really been—" She grips the side of your butt and pulls you closer. "I feel like I want to share everything with you now," she whispers.
Your heart rises into your throat. Her expression turns first puzzled, then fearful, as you struggle to speak.
"Wow," you finally gasp out. "That's a really, um, amazing offer, Chelsea," you whisper.
Still the fear shows in her eyes. "But?" she prompts you. | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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